Just a friend Just fear Just love
by SmashedupFairy
Summary: N/S. Sara's POV. *completed* Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed this story. This is the final chapter. Now how do you keep a secret from a bunch of CSI's? Well how do you hold a tea party with a bunch of sharks? I pity the fool who tries it.
1. fear of falling

Chapter 1- Fear of falling  
  
When I was a kid I taught myself to be afraid of anything I couldn't control. It was my way of protecting myself. I figured that if I were afraid of such things then I would always run away from them. If I did that then they couldn't touch me and I wouldn't get hurt.  
  
  
  
My greatest fear is human emotion. Those feelings that we can't control, that make us vulnerable, open to pain. Guilt; eating us up from the inside out. Fear itself; freezing your mind, killing rational thought. And perhaps the worst of all, love. The cruellest of them all. Deceiving you into believing that your happy, then striking you down and leaving you sick with the pain of loss.  
  
I fear love the most and yet somehow it keeps crawling into my life, hitting me when I'm least expecting it and sucking me dry. No matter how strong I try to be, I can't protect myself completely.  
  
That's why I work so hard. When I'm working on case I can forget about the rest of the world. The only lives that matter are those involved in the case. I can put my life on hold and if I do that enough then it will never move forward and I can't get hurt again.  
  
I drain away the last of my coffee and put the empty cup down on the table, perhaps a little harder than I intended. The crash sounds deafening in the empty room. I glance up at the clock. 7:45. Only 15 minutes till the shift starts. I wonder where the rest of the team are. Right on cue the door handle turns. Nick and Warrick wrestle through the door, fighting to be first into the room.   
  
"Children! Children!" scolds a voice behind them. They both come tumbling into the room as Catherine pushes them from the back.  
  
Nick falls backwards into an empty chair and Warrick scoops up the football from the floor. They begin their nightly ritual- tossing it backwards and forwards. Cath starts making herself a drink. She points at my empty cup.  
  
"Do you wanna refill Sara?"  
  
I shake my head, declining the offer.  
  
Out of the corner of my eye I can see Nick looking at me. Unwilling to meet his gaze, I stare fixedly at the closed door. I can still fell his eyes, burning into me. Warrick doesn't notice that Nick's attention has wandered from the game. He throws the ball again and it hits Nick on the ear. He blinks and snaps his head round to glare at Warrick, but he's laughing. I laugh too, trying to drown out the part of me that wants to rush over and check that he's okay. It's silly. I know that he's fine- he's laughing.  
  
Angry with myself I go back to staring at the door. I can feel my self falling for him and I hate myself for it. I won't let myself fall in love again. 


	2. Partners in Crime

Chapter 2- Partners in Crime  
  
The door opens for the second time dead on 8:00 and Grissom enters. I'm grateful to have something else to focus on other than Nick.  
  
"Good evening" he greets us.  
  
Nick's still rubbing his ear where the ball hit him and Warrick's Grinning like an idiot.  
  
Grissom picks up the first file he brought into the room and hands it to Catherine.  
  
"419. Possibly a robbery gone wrong. Neighbours heard the commotion and called the cops. By the time they arrived it was too late. They found the body in the kitchen."  
  
Catherine flicks through he near empty file.  
  
"Warrick you can work with Catherine."  
  
He picks up the other file.  
  
"Nick, Sara, I'm pairing you two together on this one."  
  
I sigh. So much for escaping Nick's charms.  
  
"Apparently it's a 405, but a few details so far don't fit a suicide."  
  
Catherine frowns, "Hey what about you?"  
  
"Ahh," says Grissom, "I have to finish checking some bugs the day shift were kind enough to give me from one of their cases and then I have a paperwork mountain that's almost reached my ceiling to work through."  
  
Nick smirks at him, "Hard luck!"  
  
He stands up and offers me his hand. He puts on an extremely posh voice, "Would you care to accompany me Miss Sidle? I believe we have a case to solve."  
  
He sounds so silly I can't help smiling. I take his hand. Imitating his posh voice I say, "Certainly Mr Stokes. I would be honoured." Laughing we leave the room.  
  
I can't freeze him out. He makes me so happy. We can still be friends right I tell myself. It doesn't have to develop any further than that. I wonder if I'm strong enough to keep it as just friends. I trust Nick. He makes me feel safe. Maybe he won't hurt me. I close my eyes tight, screwing up my face. I can't even entertain the idea. I'm not ready to let him in yet. Maybe I'll never be ready.  
  
I let Nick drive to the scene. I can't be bothered to fight for the privilege.   
  
(Sorry. Its another short chapter. The next one is quite a bit longer. I promise.  
  
Thank you so much for the reviews. Keep them coming in. I love to hear what you think.) 


	3. Bleeding sweetheart

Chapter 3- Bleeding Sweetheart  
  
When we arrive at the scene it's swarming with people. Masochistic bystanders drawn by the action are pressed against the police tape, thirsting for blood. They're like flies, drawn to a corpse. An ambulance is parked by the sidewalk. The backdoors are wide open and two paramedics are sitting in the doorway, drinking from a steaming thermos.  
  
There's no body, which I take to be a good sign, at least for me. Hopefully they haven't touched the victim. I know that they're only trying to help, but they have an annoying habit of accidentally disturbing the evidence.   
  
Two squad cars are sitting in the street. A couple of officers are leaning on one car. A young female officer is comforting a sobbing, shaking women in the other car.  
  
Jim Brass approaches us from his unmarked car, behind the twp squad cars. He nods towards the crying woman.  
  
"The victims sister. She found the body."  
  
I glance at the woman, feeling a pang of sympathy. Ignoring it I turn back to Brass.  
  
"Has anyone touched the body?" I ask.  
  
Brass shakes his head.   
  
"No one's even been into the room except to look round the door. Even the Vics sister could see she was dead on first sight. She fled the house screaming, before calling the cops. There was no point in sending in those guys," he points towards the ambulance. "There's nothing they could do."  
  
Something tells me that this scene is going to be nasty. I pick up my kit and Nick and I follow Brass into the house. The house is dark and silent. A chill hangs in the air. He indicates to a door stood slightly ajar. Soft light leaks out through the gaps around the door. Brass gives us a small, regretful smile and heads back downstairs and outside, back to the waiting public.  
  
Nick looks at me, raises his eyebrows and pushes open the door. We both stop dead in our tracks, just inside the room. Nick gives a low whistle.  
  
"Well," he hesitates, "If it was a suicide then she was hurt by love. If it was murder the it was a crime of passion."  
  
"Or this is a brothel," I say brightly.  
  
Nick looks at me, confused.  
  
"Well," I explain, "Look at the decor. This is a mans idea of romantic or a hookers."  
  
"A man?" Nick looks sceptical.  
  
"Sure. It's tacky and tasteless."  
  
Nick rolls his eyes. "Well our vic is most definitely female."  
  
We both turn our attention to the naked women, hanging from the huge, elaborate light fitting in the centre of the room.  
  
The rope around her neck is tight, cutting into the rank flesh about her neck. It's sticky with blood. Her face is a deep, unnatural shade of purple, blemished almost black in places. Her bloodshot eyes protrude sickeningly from her face. Her swollen tongue lolls crudely out the side of her mouth. Her long matted hair is knotted in the old, dirty rope.   
  
Her arms, hanging limply at her sides, are a mass of cuts. All neat and parallel, starting just above her elbow and repeating down her inner arms to the base of her wrists.  
  
Her arms are coated in dried blood, clinging thickly around the cuts. Beneath the body is a shallow pool of blood. In the soft light it looks inky, black almost. Mostly it's dry, but in places it's still sticky. To one side, a blood soaked knife is stuck in the puddle.   
  
Unwilling to touch her yet, we survey the rest of the room. Hearts and flowers seem to be the theme. Shining, deep red hearts are tacked to the walls. Many are torn. Some have been shredded and thrown to the ground. Every surface is coated in rose petals. Blood red and snow white. Pathetic and dieing now. The floor is littered with ripped sheets of pale pink paper. Neat, curly handwriting covers every sheet. Some is stained, splashed with blood. I wonder if maybe they're love letters or the pages from her diary.  
  
Aside from these destroyed pages, I can see no sign of a possible suicide note. Unusual for a woman. We like to have the last word. There's a fallen, straight-backed wooden chair, some distance from the body. There's blood on it, visible even from our position. I guess it was used for the hanging, but I'm almost certain that the victim couldn't have kicked it over there herself.  
  
I see Nick's also looking round the room. I can almost see his mind working behind his eyes. I know he's reached the same conclusion as I have.  
  
"Looks like we got ourselves a homicide." 


	4. Work, Work, Sleep

Chapter 4- Work, work, sleep  
  
Nick and I begin processing the scene. It is a messy job. There is plenty of evidence to collect, but how much will actually tell us anything is anybodies guess. We begin with the victim. This must be one of the more disgusting corpses that I've encountered in this job. Finally the coroner comes to remove the body. I feel myself relax a little. I now shift my attention to the rest of the room.  
  
Nick becomes quickly absorbed in the task at hand. Something's stopping me from giving my full attention to the scene. Since I saw that body I've been trying to block the image from my mind. I've been desperately trying to ignore the sick feeling festering in my stomach.  
  
I can still remember the first hanging victim I ever saw. In my first year of college. My roommate. She was always a little unstable. When things got tough she used to harm herself. Cut her arms. I tried to stop her when I first found out, but in the end I gave up. A part of me can never forgive myself for not trying harder to help her.   
  
When her boyfriend broke up with her it finally pushed her over the edge. I was studying in the library for an up-coming exam till late. When I got back she had killed herself. I found her hanging in the shower. She'd cut herself for the final time before she died. Her injuries were not dissimilar to the woman we found today.   
  
I shudder at the memory.  
  
I contemplate telling Nick my story, if for no other reason than to break up the heavy silence in the room. I decide against it. I continue to rescue the pages lying around the room, bagging them, planning to make sense of them back at the lab. I finish this task and look around me, trying to decide what to work on next. Nick's carefully photographing the knife and delicately removing it from the blood. I decide to look over the fallen chair. I pick my way through he sea of rose petals. I can feel that it's going to be a long night.  
  
I was right. It took us hours before we could return to the lab. I'm swamped with evidence, but so far I've found very little. The blood pooled on the floor belongs to the victim. The knife's a bloody mess. I've managed to lift some partials off it, but so far I've not matched them to anyone's prints.  
  
I wonder if Nick's having any more luck with the rope. I'm so tired; I can barely keep my eyes open. It feels like I've been working alone in this room for hours. It must be nearly the end of the shift. I wish I'd remembered to put my watch on today. There's no clock in this room.  
  
I can't fight the sleepiness any longer. I lean over the workbench and rest my head on my folded arms.  
  
I seem to have barely closed my eyes when the door opens. A soft voice calls my name in my ear.  
  
"Sara. Sara, are you planning on leaving at all? The shift ended two hours ago."  
  
I groan and slowly open my eyes, to find myself looking deep into Nicks beautiful, warm gaze.  
  
I smile weakly, feeling silly for being caught sleeping. He places his hand on my back.  
  
"You work too hard."  
  
I don't bother to point out that he's also still here, obviously working. Reluctantly I raise my head and his hand slides off my back.  
  
"Do you want to come back to mine? I'll make you breakfast."  
  
I'm torn in half. I want to accept his offer. I really do, but my danger alarm is screaming at me. Telling me I'm just setting myself up to get hurt.  
  
"Come on," he begs, "It'll be fun."  
  
He looks so sweet. Standing there in the semi-darkness, waiting for an answer. I can feel myself caving in. Ignoring the warnings, I nod my head. He grins like a kid on his birthday.  
  
He takes my hand and leads me out of the lab. As we cross the parking lot I worry that I've made the wrong decision. I'm too tired to drive, so I accept his offer to take his car. I can come back and collect mine anytime.  
  
As I get in the car, my worries disappear. I'm amazed at how unafraid I feel. 


	5. Freedom and a friend

Chapter 5- Freedom and a friend  
  
I'm pretty impressed by how clean and tidy Nick's apartment is. I follow him into the kitchen and he pulls out a chair for me so I can sit down at the table. Immediately he starts rushing around the kitchen, making coffee and searching through the cupboards.  
  
"How does beans and egg on toast sound?"  
  
"It sounds great."   
  
I smile at him. Anything would sound great. I'm starving. Also, I'm flattered by the attention he's giving me. It's been a long time since anybody made me breakfast.  
  
I had this boyfriend in my junior year of high school. Every morning I would go round to his house before school and he would make me breakfast. I thought he was the most romantic, caring guy in the whole school. Then he disappeared during the homecoming dance and I caught him outside, making out with my best friend. My breakfast-making hero turned out to be a cheating fiend.   
  
I watch Nick spreading butter on the toast. I find myself hoping that he won't do the same thing to me, even though he isn't my boyfriend. Of course I don't actually have a best friend now for him to cheat on me with. I guess Nick's one of the best friends I've got and he can't exactly cheat on me with himself.  
  
Nick places the plate of hot food in front of me and I start to eat. Real food tastes so good. I'm a terrible cook. I can't even make something simple like this.   
  
After breakfast I help him clear up. It's the least I can do. I'm starting to feel tired again. Nick notices this.  
  
"You can sleep here if you like. You can just stop by your apartment on the way into work to pick up some clean clothes and that. You look so tired," he justifies his offer.  
  
I consider this. It's tempting. It can't hurt right? And I really am too tired to go home right now.  
  
"Sure. Thanks. Umm.... could I take a shower?"  
  
"Yeah. No problem. I'll just fetch you a clean towel."  
  
I stand in the shower, with my eyes closed, savouring the peace. The sound of the running water is calming. I'm thinking about Nick. I think about Nick a lot these days. I wish he were here with me, right now. God. What am I thinking? It's insane.   
  
Reluctantly I shut off the hot water and step out in to the steam filled bathroom. Having dried myself off, I realise I've got nothing to change into, to sleep in. I wrap the towel around me and decide to ask Nock if I can borrow an old t-shirt or something.  
  
I feel self-conscious, creeping around his apartment wearing nothing but a towel. I can see a flickering light under a door at the far end of the hall. I guess it's his bedroom. He's probably watching TV. I knock gingerly on the door.  
  
"Sara?" he calls out.  
  
Slowly I open the door. He's lying stretched out on his bed, wearing just a pair of jeans. I can't stop myself staring at his hard, muscled chest. My mind goes blank. I can't remember what I came in her for.  
  
He looks a little shocked himself, reminding me that I'm wearing just a towel. I look a little sheepish.  
  
"Could I borrow a t-shirt to sleep in?"  
  
Nick gives himself a little shake.  
  
"What? Oh yeah. Sure."  
  
He jumps off his bed and begins searching through a draw. Finally he straightens up and hands me a soft, black t-shirt.  
  
As our hands touch, I swear I feel a tiny shock. Like electricity. A connection. Nick notices it too. He takes hold of my hand. His other hand reaches up and gently strokes my face. I look up into his eyes. He leans in, kissing me. Tenderly at first, as though testing the water, waiting to see if I slap him for pushing his luck. He needn't bother. I don't try to fight this. It feels so... right. I kiss him back, more intensely.   
  
He's moving back, guiding me towards his bed. I let him. I barely notice as my towel comes loose and falls to the floor. Willingly I fall into his arms. No longer afraid. At least not right now. 


	6. someone to listen

Chapter 6- Someone to listen  
  
I wake up feeling disorientated. Daylight creeps round the edge of the curtains. That's the problem with working the graveyard shift; you're always asleep when everyone else is awake.  
  
As my brain begins to wake up I become aware of someone else's body heat warming my exposed flesh. Something's lying across my side. I reach up and my fingers graze Nick's arm. Suddenly it all comes flooding back. A wave of nausea sweeps through my body.  
  
I'm reminded of a time at college when I got drunk. Really drunk. I ended up going back to this guy's dorm. I don't know why. I don't remember anything. When I woke up I was trapped. This great heavy arm lay right across my body, pinning me to the bed. He was huge and hairy, like a gorilla. I tried to wriggle out from under his arm, hoping to escape before he woke up. I didn't manage it. He woke up with a start and realising what I was trying to do, he got mad.   
  
He punched me hard across the face, sending me crashing to the ground. As I lay there on the floor, unable to get up he kicked me repeatedly, calling me names. Finally he pulled me up by my hair and threw me out into the corridor.  
  
I stayed locked in my dorm for two days after that, unable to stop crying. Gradually my bruises faded, but inside, the memory of the abuse I had suffered lived on. I was a lot more careful after that.  
  
Oh god. What have I done? I was doing so well and now I've gone and screwed everything up again. Just like I always do. This morning it all seemed so right. Now as evening approaches, I lie here and contemplate my actions. How could I have been so wrong? I've ruined a fantastic friendship, because I can't control myself. I'm so afraid of love and yet I need it to survive.  
  
I start to cry. Tears tumble down my cheeks and splash onto the pillow. I don't hear the change in Nicks breathing. He wakes up to the sound of me sobbing.   
  
"Sara?" he sounds concerned, "Are you alright?"  
  
He rolls me over to face him, holding my shoulders with his hands. I see fear flicker across his face. I've hurt him. He thinks I'm crying because of him, but it's not his fault. I'm crying because of me and I can't seem to stop.  
  
"Sara?" he asks again, "Are you okay?"  
  
He pulls me in closer now, staring deep into my eyes, searching for my soul. I don't even know if I have one.  
  
I meet his gaze and everything starts to melt away. I feel protected again. When he holds me in his arms like this everything else ceases to matter. I just know everything is going to be alright.  
  
Before I can stop myself, I'm telling him everything. About my need to be in control and my failure to do so. About my fear of love and the pain that accompanies it.  
  
Through it all he listens silently, stroking my hair. When I've finished he holds me tight. He promises me that he won't hurt me. I don't know why, but I believe him. I feel safe here, wrapped in his arms. Maybe this time I've found a good love. 


	7. Secret's out

Chapter 7- Secrets out  
  
We arrive at the lab together. I feel self-conscious every time someone looks our way. I wonder if they can tell somehow. I watch Catherine particularly carefully. If anyone is going to pick up on the change in Nick and I, then it will be her. I'm being so paranoid. They're CSI's not psychics.  
  
Nick tells Grissom that we're still working on yesterday's case and he gives us leave to continue. As we go through the door, Nick slips his arm around my waist. My whole body tenses up. I daren't look round to see if anyone's noticed. I can just imagine Grissom sitting there looking troubled and Catherine and Warrick exchanging curious, probably slightly surprised glances.  
  
I realise that I'm being stupid. We can't make this relationship work if I'm too afraid to admit to it. I force myself to relax. Nick rewards me with a smile. He knows how hard this is for me. I begin to enjoy the way his arm feels resting around my waist. Together we make our way to the DNA lab to see Greg.   
  
As usual Greg is working in his own little world. He thrives on that heavy rock music. Lately it's been annoying me- giving me a headache. Today it's different. I'm different. I grab Greg's hands and we start jumping round the lab to the beat like a couple of hyperactive two year olds. Nick watches from the sidelines, laughing.  
  
Finally Greg and me get tired and have to stop to get our breath back.  
  
"So Greg-o. What you got for me?"  
  
Greg's been working on the rope we found around the victims neck.  
  
"Well, the blood on the rope all belongs to your Vic. The epithelials Nick found do not. DNA says they are XY."  
  
"So she didn't hang herself." I state the obvious.   
  
"Can I just say...I told you so." Nick grins. "It's a homicide."  
  
"Hey!" I poke him in the ribs. "I never said it wasn't. Don't try and take all the credit for this Superman."  
  
"Superman hey?" comments Greg. "If I'd known you were that good in bed, Nick my boy, I would have tried to seduce you a long time ago." He gives me a little nod.  
  
I feel my jaw drop. He knows. How can he know?  
  
Greg chuckles at the look on my face.   
  
"Don't look so shocked Sara. It's obvious. It's in your body language. Two people can only seem so in tune, so comfortable with one another if they are sleeping together. I see my chance has gone." He looks wistful. "But let me just tell you Sara. Anytime you feel Nicky here isn't treating you right I'll be waiting for you with open arms."  
  
Nick shoots him a filthy glare. I frown, despite being slightly amused. "Right," I say slowly.  
  
"So tell me," says Greg, grinning, "Was it good?" He raises his eyebrows suggestively.  
  
"Greg!" I scream, hurling a pen at his head.  
  
I can still hear his laughter as we walk away, down the corridor.  
  
We stop just outside the break room. Nick places his arms around my neck, so I'm facing him. Standing on tiptoes I kiss him quickly on the lips.  
  
"So, what are you doing after the shift?"  
  
"Why? I'm taking you out to dinner."  
  
"That would be perfect," I whisper in his ear. I kiss him again.  
  
Catherine and Warrick are staring in disbelief through the windows of the break room. They are so unsubtle. They might as well have their faces pressed up against the glass.  
  
"Looks like our secrets out," Nick says softly.  
  
I shrug my shoulders. "So. Lets take advantage of it."  
  
This time I kiss him properly, not caring who sees. Then I take him by the hand and lead him into the break room. I can't wipe the smile off my face.  
  
Yes it's true that all I've seen of love so far is pain and suffering, but it can't always be like that. If it were then the whole world would be miserable. Perhaps if I believe in it enough then I will find happiness. When I'm with Nick I feel happy. For the first time I can look to the future in love and it looks bright.  
  
The end.  
  
Thank you so much for reading my story.  
  
I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. 


End file.
